


The difference a chromosome can make

by Creedan404



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, From Homelander, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In this house we hate homelander, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Single Mom Becca, Single Parents, Yall watched the show, no beta we die like men, tfw your kid is a walking atom bomb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creedan404/pseuds/Creedan404
Summary: Jamie Butcher only cares about making sure her mom doesn't find out she didn't finish the science homework, whether her bike can do that cool skidding thing she saw her friend do, learning her state capitals, and making sure her butterflies hatch on time.That was before Homelander dropped out of the sky with a hobo and a bombshell.(AU where Homelander Jr. is a girl)
Relationships: Becca Butcher & Ryan Butcher, Becca Butcher/Billy Butcher
Comments: 3
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A what-if prompt I thought up while watching the Boys. Story will focus mostly on Becca and her kid's life before and during the show because that's an untapped goldmine of character expansion right there. Who doesn't love a good kid-with-superpowers story?
> 
> (Will deviate from the source material)

Jamie knows by the age of five that her mother fears her. It’s not hard to see, but she can’t understand why.

When Jamie’s not even one year old, she screams and throws a bowl of mushed peas into the wall across the room. Her mom backs away from her so quickly and hides behind the counter. She doesn’t come up until Jamie is hiccupping and sobbing with snot running down her face because ‘Momma gone, where she go, Momma!’.

Jamie is three when she wants to stay up past her bedtime because it’s her birthday tomorrow, and tomorrow is in a few hours (Momma had told her this earlier in the night so it must have been true). Momma’s voice is stern when tells her to go back up to bed for the third time. Jamie tries to argue her position, she’s almost four (almost a grown-up), she can stay up a little later, but Momma doesn’t budge an inch. In anger, Jamie stomps her foot and the reverb knocks Momma back down onto the couch. The hardwood floor is cracked, and Momma is shaking as she stares at Jamie. Before she can get up, Jamie runs back to bed. The floor is uncracked in the morning.

Currently, Jamie is five and sits in the car seat as her mom drives her home from ballet practice. Jamie hates ballet, not because it’s hard but because it’s boring and she is the only student in the huge gym. Every Tuesday afternoon at four after they finish up numbers for the day, Momma takes her to the big gymnasium and Ms. Catherine stands there in her pretty pink leotard and hair in a slick bun. Ms. Catherine never smiles, even when Jamie does her awesome plies that she practices at home. And Jamie knows they're awesome because she had Momma help her with them. Still Ms. Catherine stares at her. Ms. Catherine probably can’t smile, poor lady.

Jamie pouts as she watches the buildings pass by, pretending in her mind that a man is jumping from roof to roof to keep up with the car.

“How was ballet, Jay bird?” Momma asks from the front seat as she lowers the knob to her piano music. Momma always listens to piano music, or songs with the same person singing them for a while.

“Okay… Ms. Catherine didn’t smile again. Even when I told her the knock-knock joke about the pumpkin.”

“Really? That one’s hilarious, Ms. Catherine maybe just doesn’t have a funny bone.”

“Yeah… why am I the only one in ballet class?”

Momma doesn’t answer for a while, her eyes on the road. That’s very important.

“Well, maybe you’re so good at ballet that if you joined a ballet class with other little girls, they would get jealous.” Momma’s voice goes quieter as she talks.

“I’m not that special.”

Momma’s hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Do you not want to do ballet anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Jamie says into her shirt, not looking up even though she knows Momma is looking at her through the mirror.

“Jamie? What’s wrong? Do you not like Ms. Catherine, we can try a different ballet teacher?”

“I don’t wanna do ballet, I don’t wanna- I just-” Jamie’s eyes burn and she hastily rubs at them. She doesn’t wanna cry, she doesn’t know why she’s sad, she just doesn’t know. But she can’t cry. Babies cry and she’s not a baby anymore, she’s five and shouldn’t cry! She’s a big girl. And big girls don’t cry!

“JJ?” She hears her mother’s voice like Momma is talking through a tube. The car is stopped. Jamie sees familiar looking houses through her window. They are home.

“I just wanna friend, I don’t wanna not do ballet anymore but I wanna friend too. Since Vanessa moved, there's nobody else here my age. And there's nobody else in ballet either. I want someone else in ballet so Ms. Catherine isn’t always looking at me like I’m gonna break something! I don’t like the gym, it’s too big and sometimes when Ms. Catherine says things that make me sad or mad her voice just bounces around the room and it hurts my ears and- and-”

Jamie can’t hold it in anymore, her eyes are burning and her chest is tight and her cheeks are wet. Her car door opens.

“Jamie, look at me.” Jamie does so, and watches as Momma’s face goes white. A scared face.

Jamie blinks up at her with hot eyes that hurt her head a little.

Momma’s heart is pounding as she pulls Jamie into a hug, tucking Jamie’s face into her chest. Jamie wraps her arms gently around Momma, last time she hugged Momma tight Momma had bandages on her chest for weeks.

“I’ll see what I can do, Jay bird.” Momma whispers into Jamie’s brown hair. “It’s okay to feel sad.”

Momma holds her for a long while and continues talking into her hair.

Jamie sniffles and cries some more into Momma’s shirt, the quick bu-bumps are loud in her ears and her eyes are cooling down.

“I love you, Momma.”

It doesn’t matter if Momma is terrified of her, she is all Jamie has and Jamie loves her.

“I love you too.”

Two weeks later, Momma tells her that some new kids moved into the neighborhood and are outside playing soccer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RE: Introduction of hobby related to mental stability, see attached.
> 
> -Becca

Becca takes up gardening as a hobby when her daughter is four.

The cake of mulch underneath her fingernails and the pull in her forearms grounds her when nothing else seems to. No other household hobbies seem to do the trick. Sewing was a pain in the ass. Home décor was a bust. Cleaning is more of a chore really. And cooking? Don’t get her started. Becca thinks she can cook… okay, but ready-made microwavable meals have always been her go-to. And _apparently_ that’s an “unhealthy eating style” that is only allowed once a week.

Before, with Bi… with _him_ , she would go dancing or to a bar, drink the night away, maybe wake up in their bed with a raging headache and his arm over her waist. But that’s just not applicable here.

She can’t go out on the town, or even out to eat! They monitor her gas milage and have her GPS’d through her cellphone. What she wouldn’t give for some Red Lobster, or Cheesecake Factory.

Good God does she miss Cheesecake Factory, not the food but the ambiance of the place. Crowded Saturday night with a young couple yelling about who was supposed to set up the reservation, waiting upwards of an hour for a table, getting that caramel cheesecake to ‘share’, settling back into the car for the two hour drive that is totally worth it because the one thirty minutes from the house is just terrible.

Lounging around on the couch with him, watching some Hallmark movie because he thinks they’re funny and listening to his inhale and exhale with her head on his chest. Not having to worry about daily schedules, socializing with the ‘neighbors’, and how many carbs are in an order of mashed potatoes…

But back to gardening.

It gives her something to do each day. Tending to the plants with her rifling through the dirt like a dog. Sometimes she even lets the weeds grow for a few days before pulling them out, something to look forward to.

Sure, she had to argue the pro’s and con’s of the hobby, but apparently “fresh grown vegetables” and “creative outlet for mental health” were too good to pass up on.

Heaven forbid she spirals back into what her former colleagues summed up as “pre- and post-partum depression”. Days where she was kept under constant observation with a needle in her arm and patches all across her chest.

And she doesn’t talk about the labor, when her little girl started to get anxious and began kicking up at her. Becca thought she was having an honest to God heart attack and started crying (to this day she doesn’t know if they were tears of joy).

No, _they_ make sure she is kept in tip-top shape physically, mentally, and somewhat emotionally.

Her life may be a gilded cage where she has to show the garage camera her cigarettes whenever she wants a breather but it’s a life she’s living.

And she takes it one day at a time.

A thorn splinters into her thumb and she instinctively mutters, “fucking bitch”, knowing that Jamie isn’t here so she can curse freely.

It’s not much blood but it is a pain in the ass she’ll have to take care of later before picking up Jamie from ballet practice (a new ‘hobby’ that was carefully selected after Jamie started exploring around the house and nearly cracked her head trying to open the ladder to the attic).

Maybe she should get some gloves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asset has sustained relationships with children of similar age. Asset frequently states desire to "go outside and play with her friends" after delegated periods of schooling with mother. Asset has expressed interest of upcoming 'sleepover' with the two female children.
> 
> Will continue to monitor Asset for aggressive/ maladaptive tendencies.
> 
> -Sent to Dr. Vogelbaum

Jamie is seven when she goes over to her friend Tonya’s house for a sleepover. It’s her first time doing a sleepover, but she is prepared. Her green and blue backpack (that she had to debate her mom into getting her instead of the pink and purple on) sits innocently against her bedpost and Jamie has the urge to check its contents again for the fourteenth time this hour.

So like a TSA agent on steroids, she pounces on the bag and dumps everything out before stuffing it back in and checking off items on her mental checklist.

PJs, socks, undies, clothes for tomorrow, toothbrush and paste, hairbrush, the little wooden tic-tac-toe game Mom got her a few weeks ago, a mousetrap, a box of matches, her colored pencils, five different colored hair bows to choose from tomorrow morning, her favorite Magic Treehouse book (Pirates Past Noon, but Earthquake in the Early Morning was a close second), her favorite fluffy blanket, and Mr. Mittens her baby toy. But Mr. Mittens is only if she gets scared! But she won’t get scared, and even if she does Mom said that that’s okay and she will come and get her, so it’s fine.

Everything in her backpack is ready to go so Jamie goes downstairs to eat her final meal.

Forty minutes later, her mother stands before her with a smile as Jamie adjusts the backpack straps nervously.

“And if you want to come home?” Mom questions as she tightens her left braid (that one always comes loose first).

“That that’s okay. And I shouldn’t feel bad about it.” Jamie recites with her chin up, the picture of confidence.

“And if the other girls want to do something you don’t want to do?”

“No thank you, I do not feel comfortable doing that.”

“And if the other girls want to go swimming in Macy’s pool but you didn’t bring your swimsuit?”

“Macy’s pool is great and- hey, that won’t happen!” Jamie glares up at her mom. This is serious!

“It could, that’s why I put your flower swimsuit in your backpack.”

“The petunia one?”

“Oh shoot! No, the marigold one.”

Jamie snorts.

“I don’t have a marigold one, stop lying.”

“You got me, JJ.” Mom’s smile then falls off her face and she grabs Jamie’s hand. “You have fun, sweetie. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Jamie smiles and squeezes her mom's hand.

“Alright,” Mom stands up and both her and Jamie’s eyes widen at the responding cracks. “Oof. Now you better get going, it’s a long journey ahead of you.”

Jamie nods sternly before turning to face the unknown.

She takes her first steps into uncertainty and the outside world and the perilous journey to Tonya’s house.

The voyage is long, and it is by Jamie's sheer force of will to remain steadfast that she does not wavier in her quest. Lesser folk would have turned from the abyss and return to what they once knew, forever sheltered by their own feebleness. But not Jamie 'Bladerunner' Butcher (that's not her real middle name, just one she made up ‘cause it sounds cool). Jamie does not shake in the sight of adversity but stands to the challenge! She is a mountain against the hailstorm. She is a voyager, a traveler, a pilgrim! Seeking new lands and exploring the unknown is her calling in life. And now? Now she fulfills her destiny!

Jamie rings the doorbell and looks back to her mom across the street.

Mom gives her a thumbs-up and that strengthens her resolve. The front door opens not even a minute later and Tonya grins gap-toothily at Jamie before dragging her inside the house.

Let’s do this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fetus is developing at an accelerated rate. Scheduled cesarean removal is recommended to preserve life of both Mother and Asset.
> 
> \- Dr. Vogelbaum, 2012

Becca cannot believe these assholes.

On second thought, this bullshit is right up their alley.

It’s basically witness protection they want to send her and her unborn child into. But even witness protection has some modicum of authenticity, what they are proposing is just ludicrous!

A completely private and secluded area of land made into a fake cul-de-sac complete with ‘neighbors’, Vought employees on unspecified ‘medical leave’ whom have been made to sign non-disclosure agreements and will train for the next few months on their ‘roles’, and enough space for her child to “explore”…

They’re all insane.

Not to mention they didn’t think to include any other children in the plans until Becca brought it up (great idea guys, keep the super-kid isolated for their entire life). The question of if the other children will be kept unaware of their roles is still up in the air, but most likely. Not to mention _when_ the other children would be introduced, Becca’s is tired of over-hearing debates on “large enough age gaps between peers” and “children’s consumption of popular media contributing to personality development”.

(There was a woman who visited her last week. An Amelia Ricardo from Vought’s Philadelphia branch who will live in the “neighborhood” with her two-year-old daughter Vanessa. It was stressed to Becca how this will be a trial run to see if her child is ‘capable of forming non-familial attachments early in psychosocial development’)

The worst thing is that the doctors monitor her constantly. She’s kept in a secluded room in an underground facility that she was assured is lined with zinc and proven to not be noticeable by… any Supes. The camera in the corner of the wall blinks red whenever she gets out of bed. If Becca didn’t have the overhead clock on the wall, she would have lost track of the time so quickly. And it’s near everyday they come in with a blood draw and pre-natal vitamins for her.

(Becca knows they are debating on giving her insomnia medication as well and probably will once they thoroughly determine if there are any side effects that affect fetus formation.)

She has practically lost all autonomy (did she really ever have any) when she told Stillwell and showed her and Vogelbaum the child’s glowing eyes through her stomach (and wasn’t that just terrifying, the fact that at any moment the fetus could burn right through her, _killing_ her and it).

Does she regret coming to Vought for help? Not at this moment, no. They are her best chance on keeping herself and her child alive. They raised the monster that raped her for Christ’s sake, surely they can handle _whatever_ is growing in her stomach.

She has to stop that thought.

It’s not a ‘whatever’, it’s a child. It’s her child. She has to keep reminding herself of that… but damnit if it’s not so easy to distance herself, say that the child’s not hers and hope Vought doesn’t screw this one up too. But that would be cop-out and the worst possible option (like Stillwell and Vogelbaum even gave her the option, they forced her to sign her life away at near gunpoint).

Becca doesn’t trust Vought to not ruin this child like its biological father. This child needs her, it can’t end up like Homelander, the world couldn’t take it if that happened. She is her child’s best chance at a normal life and Vought knows it.

Her feelings don’t matter right now.

And if the thought of raising a blond haired, blue eyed little boy who looks exactly like his father makes Becca’s heart drop and stomach erode, she doesn’t say anything. She can’t…

She can’t imagine just how much this child is going to look like its biological father without suffocating on her own lungs (it’s not a panic attack, she swears).

She just has to remind herself this is her child. Even if the baby comes out smiling and wearing a cape, it’s still her child. And she will raise her child to the best of her ability.

This is her child no matter what.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asset seems fascinated with approved book series. It seems even with scheduled activities and inclusion of similar aged companions, Asset seeks fictional escapism. Will continue to observe.
> 
> \- Sent to Dr. Vogelbaum, 2018

Jamie finds out about Supes when she’s six and a half. People who look like ordinary people but with super cool powers that can make them fly, turn invisible, or talk to dolphins! They are amazing! They are incredible! Jamie can’t stop rereading Trey’s comic book about The Seven that he lent her. The fight scenes, the fact that these people really exist- it’s just all so amazing! They are all Jamie can talk about!

And then a week later she finds out about the Magic Tree House book series.

Jamie doesn’t really care about Supes much after that.

Don’t get her wrong Supes are still cool and able to do cool things like freeze bullets in mid-air (and if she met one she’ll say thank you), but they aren’t the Magic Tree House series.

She wouldn’t even know what to do if she got similar powers to some Supes, they aren’t really applicable to her life.

Turning invisible? Maybe cool to do while playing hide and seek, but after that- pretty meh. Flying? Sounds neat but what about all the bugs in the air that could get in her mouth and it’s supposed to be really cold super high up, how many sweaters would she need (and even if she were to fly home with groceries from the farmer’s market would they all be smushed from how fast she’s going)? Talking to fish? She could talk to Trey’s goldfish, maybe find out his fish secrets but after that it would be boring. And not to mention setting stuff on fire- her mom would ground her forever!

Now, if one day a tree house sprouted up in her backyard containing books that let her time travel and have fun adventures, well then sign her up! But superpowers? No thanks.

Jamie still reads some of Trey’s comics about fake heroes (she likes the Teen Titans one- it’s cool to see people close to her age fighting crime), but she doesn’t really care that much about Supes.

Whenever Trey and Tonya argue about who’s better between Black Noir or Queen Maeve, Jamie just stands there while they argue. If they keep going for a while, she goes to see what Macy is doing.

It’s funny when her friends ask her who her favorite Super is and she asks ‘well, who’s the coolest’, which sparks up a whole new debate that Jamie can sink into the background of.

It doesn’t even bother her when they play heroes and villains, and everyone wants to be the heroes so badly and so she plays the villain-with overdramatic evil laughing of course- most of the time. Jamie being the villain concerns her mom though because she has heard her talking a little to Mrs. Rogers (their next-door neighbor) about it, but Jamie doesn’t really see anything wrong with it. 

Jamie doesn’t really care about Supes, and why should she?

It’s not like they’ll ever be a big part of her life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother is adapting to environment as expected, recommended increase in Prazosin medication for 'event' related insomnia.
> 
> \- Sent to Dr. Vogelbaum, 2013

Becca isn’t afraid of her daughter.

Jamie is the sweetest girl in the world. She is so considerate and always willing to help.

Becca remembers when Jamie was around two years-old, her brown hair was pulled into little pigtails as she gingerly maneuvered up the steps with two folded towels in her hands. Every time Jamie would make it up a step successfully, she would turn to Becca and shout, “I got it!”, while clutching her towels. Granted, Becca was right behind her with the rest of the towels and washrags, and it took about five minutes for Jamie to get up the stairs. But it was just so sweet the way Jamie rushed over to Becca from her toys when she saw her mom was done folding. Arms outstretched with a smile and yelling a cheery, “I help!”.

And the way on walks around the neighborhood she would avoid stepping on bugs, even helping caterpillars into the grass, and saying hi to the birds and ‘neighbors’.

And how Jamie would look up at Becca like she is the brightest star in the sky before hugging her. And her clinging on for dear life and Becca hearing a muffled “I love momma”.

Jamie isn’t frightening, not at all.

But there are times when everything is quiet and calm and the day was fine, days they go to the ‘farmer’s market’ and “momma look, kitty!”, and then it’s not.

Times when Becca looks over to Jamie and doesn’t see her own daughter. All she can see are those bright blue eyes (eyes that haunt her nightmares so badly she needs medication to sleep peacefully through the night) slowly looking at her and the face curling into a disgusted sneer and the eyes turning red and her face feeling hot and hot and hotter and-

And then she’s back. On the couch, with her daughter looking up at her with a tilted head like a curious little puppy. And Becca takes her daughter into her arms and kisses her forehead and smooths her dark hair. And everything is fine.

Becca isn’t afraid of her daughter. No. Why would she be afraid of her own daughter?

She is afraid of what her daughter could become.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALERT! ENVIRONMENT HAS BEEN BREACHED! IMMEDIATE RESPONSE REQUIRED.
> 
> \- Sent to Dr. Vogelbaum, 2020

Her butterflies are supposed to hatch from their cocoons (but chrysalis is the scientific term, and she should probably use that word as this is serious science) between Friday and Monday.

Jamie can’t freaking wait!

(And if her butterflies hatch before Macy’s… then that’s just an added bonus)

Her mom is scrubbing the dishes in the sink, humming some familiar lullaby.

“You think they’re out yet?” Her mom asks Jamie from across the kitchen counter where she does her super easy math homework (and carefully slides her papers so that it hides her incomplete science homework).

“Probably not,” Jamie replies with a shaken head as she looks up at her mom. “The instructions say they take about a week and a half.”

“Maybe they are just so excited to see you, they pop out a few days early.”

“Can butterflies do that?” Jamie’s head quirks to the side. If butterflies can hatch whenever then that changes things. Maybe Mom will let her bring her butterflies into the house, she _has_ to see them hatch! That’s part of the butterfly experience!

“I don’t see why not.” Her mom shrugs before jerking her head to the piano. “Now, tell me what you have been learning with Mrs. French. You said you were working on Tchaikovsky?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing Swan Lake. Mrs. F says I’m doing great, but half-way through I just forget about my other hand.” Jamie frowns as she plays an octave on the counter with her left hand, the lazy traitor (leaving his brother to do all the work when the going gets tough, get a job). “Did you know Trey can do this cool trick with his bike? Like it goes all _whoosh_ ” Jamie tilts her body to the side “-and he almost falls off of it but doesn’t! He calls it skidding. It’s so cool!”

“Is that what you have been practicing in the driveway the past week?” Mom asks with a smile on her face.

“Yeah! I almost got it down, I was planning on showing everybody on Friday after the state capital quiz. But I did it really good yesterday, didn’t fall at all, so I was thinking about showing it off today after-”

There’s a loud crack and a thump from the front of the house that interrupts Jamie’s sentence.

Mom frowns as she turns to looks towards the front door, it sounded like something fell out front.

“Was that the butterflies?” Jamie asks, perked up in her seat and excited. “Did something knock them over? Did they hatch?”

Mom snorts and shakes her head, already taking off her yellow dishwashing gloves to go outside herself.

“I don’t think so, but you can check. Watch the sprinklers though.”

Jamie beams before hopping off her stool and walking very quickly to the front door, no running in the house after all.

She is just past the trees when she sees two people in her front yard.

“Mom!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words left unsaid sometimes speak the loudest, and the things we run from will always find us.

It feels like time has stopped.

They went outside because it sounded like a branch fell, or something hard hit the ground, and Jamie wanted to make sure it didn’t knock over her butterfly hatch.

Jamie goes ahead of her past their avocado trees.

“Mom!” Her daughter calls back, her voice somewhere between concerned and excited, before walking forward.

“Well, look at this beautiful young lady.” She hears a familiar voice say. “Hi kiddo. You know who I am?”

“Homelander! You’re Homelander!”

Something in her brain doesn’t recognize what her daughter is saying as she walks forward. It’s a protective instinct that keeps Becca moving when that one name should send her running for the hills.

“Yeah.” Its voice laughs with the answer. “That’s right, but you know who else?”

She sees Homelander first, standing in front of her daughter, and she can’t move even though she knows she should (there always was a chance that if he finds them he would kill Jamie first).

She should run. She sees Jamie shake her head. She should grab her daughter and run (though the common sense of her brain denies that that action will do any good).

And then Becca sees him.

Billy Butcher.

Staring up at her almost as confused as she is.

What.

Why is he here? How is he here? Did Homelander bring him here? Why?

Oh no.

Oh God no, she never wanted him here, he is in so much danger. She just wanted to disappear to get the situation handled and then it blew out of her control. This wasn’t- She should have said something before she left.

There were so many things she could have done differently.

She could have written him a note!

“Becca.”

But even if she gave him closure he would still try to find her, to try for answers. And what would she tell him, the truth? That Homelander raped her and she couldn’t even tell her own husband? That she found out a few weeks later she was pregnant with Homelander’s bastard? That the baby was growing too fast and she needed Vought or else this child would kill her?

Billy would kill himself trying to get revenge.

He’d rip off his own skin if it meant being able to at least punch Homelander in the face (he would break his hand trying).

It was better that she left and didn’t tell him. She already lost her freedom and her autonomy and her life! She couldn’t stand to lose him too!

But now he’s here, staring up at her like he knows what happened.

And oh God he does know. If Homelander brought him here to gloat, then he must know.

And Homelander is here, standing over her daughter like he has any claim to Jamie.

And his hand is on Jamie’s shoulder.

And he drops the bombshell.

“I’m your father. And we… are a family.”

Like hell they are.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even gods love their children...

Homelander has seen his face enough to recognize it on someone else.

The girl has the same chin, eyebrows, and hell even the slight tilt to her nose that he does. But the most solidifying characteristic are the eyes (who gives a fuck what her hair color is). Those blue eyes that he sees everyday in the mirror, on the wall, hell on people’s phones as a screensaver are all the confirmation he needs.

She looks up at him the way everyone does, and he wants to change that immediately. He can see it in her mind already ‘oh wow, Homelander, so cool, I can’t wait to tell the three people I tolerate about this before returning to my mediocre life’ and that won’t do.

Maybe he should have come up with a better plan. Gotten Black Noir to case the house and steal the girl’s saliva before Homelander returns with a confirmed paternity test (though judging by Rebecca’s face it’s clear she won’t deny what he is about to say).

But he has to make this moment count, and of course it will fucking count, it will upend everything this girl has ever believed.

And he can’t believe it either himself.

For so long he thought he could never make children, that Vought’s testing damaged his reproductive capabilities beyond repair. Infertile they told him, but he could still have sex, just not make the byproduct of it. Yet, that was a lie! A trick to make sure he didn’t go out fucking whores left and right to build up a superpowered child army. Like Vought would ever deny them, deny him; they would scoop up the kids so fast and raise his bastards however the fuck they wanted (as contingencies against him, he’s not stupid). Hell, Vought probably would have done that throughout the years if he were more sexually active.

But Vought screwed up.

The child they wanted to keep so far from his orbit, so unnoticed that he wouldn’t even pick her out of a crowd, he’s standing right in front of her.

And she won’t become Vought’s weapon to turn against him. She’ll love him like the country loves him, even more so because of their connection.

She’ll need him to turn to as she grows into her powers. And he’ll teach her.

Her eyes flash red when he tells her the truth and cups her head. Her eyes glow as if he needed anymore confirmation, needed another sign that what he was doing was the right thing. But he knows, he knows.

He’ll be an incredible father and this girl will love him. As he already loves her.

Because she’s his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Creed here! I switched it up with a HL POV. Flip-flopping back and forth between Jamie and Becca is fun, but now that we're getting into 'canon' stuff I may be doing some more outside perspectives.
> 
> Real talk: My nursing school finals are next week so a little lag in chapters to come, I'll try to update every 3 days if I can, but probably every 4 days tops. I enjoy posting so frequently cuz it forces me to write and not let the story just sit in my head and rot. Happy reading!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun is setting on another fine day in the USA, and the breadwinner arrives home from a long day at work!

He goes for the scrapbook first.

He returns from dropping Billy off God knows where and in the middle of emptying the dishwasher she turns around and he’s there- rifling through Jamie’s baby scrapbook. Becca watches as his fingers trail over something before he looks at his own hand. Looks like he found her first handprints.

“20 inches at birth?” He asks, though not to her, just to hear his own voice. “Bet she’ll be as tall as me when she grows up.”

Becca hears her nails scratch into the plate she's holding.

“If you hurt her-”

“Why would I hurt her? She’s my daughter.”

Her heart rages against that comment as Becca bites her tongue so hard it bleeds. She can’t get herself killed, Jamie needs her and if she is gone all Jamie will have is him.

But Jamie is not his daughter. She is nothing like him and never will be, she doesn’t even have his blood type let alone his fucking sociopathic tendencies.

“And to be honest, I expected a boy. A blonde haired, blue eyed little devil like myself wouldn’t be so bad. What do you say we try for another?”

She doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know that the birth had nearly killed her (even if it was cesarean), and she will never tell him (or maybe he does know and that is a threat... just like everything else).

“Hm. Maybe not. Should probably ask Jamie first if she wants a little brother.”

Becca doesn’t say anything to that either. Talking to him is a goddamn mine field and she has to plan her moves so very carefully.

“And _Jamie_? Really? You couldn’t come up with anything better? You make her sound like one of those genderless fucks I hear about.”

“Don’t curse in the house.” The reprimand is instinctual, whenever Jamie would watch a movie that says a bad word in it she would spend the next week parroting it at random times (Becca even had to set up a swear jar for the times Jamie kept saying ‘damn’ after watching Dances with Wolves, Jamie soon stopped after realizing she had lost her entire monthly allowance in the span of three days).

His eyes flash up to hers. He almost gets angry, debating with himself if she is even worth the trouble of squinting hard enough to melt her skull, before he smiles placatingly.

“Of course, that kind of talk isn’t ladylike. Thanks Mom.” He then winks at her like they share some kind of inside joke.

“Jamie’s already asleep,” Becca states. But her thoughts dance between ‘don’t do anything to wake her up’ to ‘don’t let your daughter wake up without a mother’, and she isn’t sure which one gets across to Homelander. Probably neither as he looks back down at the scrapbook and flips to the page of Jamie’s first birthday.

“I’ll be quiet.”

“She doesn’t need you here, you need to leave.”

Homelander sighs before closing the scrapbook and tucking it under his arm.

“I _should_ leave, _someone_ has to be the breadwinner.” Homelander walks past her towards the front door, and Becca turns to keep him in her line of sight. “But I’ll be back for my daughter. I have so much time to catch up on.”

And then he’s gone. He takes the scrapbook and he’s gone.

And Becca collapses against the cabinets, her knees not able to hold her up anymore.


End file.
